The Outlaw, Championed
by Latebloomnriter
Summary: E.J. Corlette has some unfinished business regarding Mark McCormick.


The Outlaw, Championed

E.J. Corlette takes care of some unfinished business regarding Mark McCormick

Note: To the best of my knowledge and belief, this story is fair use of copyrighted material, as there is no commercial use and no loss of potential market or value of the original material will occur.

The mock filming of Mark posing by the trophy morphed into a real event when Hardcastle retrieved an actual camera to create a Kodak moment. "That ain't all," said E.J. "I want this to be the real deal."

"What do you mean?" Mark was still happily engrossed by the trophy.

"Listen, Skid, even with the blown engine in the last race, you finished the series second in the point standings. With me disqualified, that would be your trophy. I want to make it official."

Mark sent him a wry look. "Come on, E.J. I mean, it's a nice thought, but it's been years. Nothing's going change the results."

"I mean it, Skid. I'm going to go to the organizing body with the story. You deserve the championship."

"It's nuts! Everything is way past the statute of limitations for any changes. I'm not sure there are even any rules for it. You might as well forget the whole thing."

They were interrupted by a slight clearing of the throat. "He's trying to make amends, sport," muttered Hardcastle. "Do you really want to prevent him from doing that?"

Mark threw up his hands. "Okay. If you want to try, be my guest. Just let them know that I don't hold you responsible, all right?"

"All right. I'll let you know. And Skid, I could use some help getting my track set up. Think you could lend a hand?"

"Now t _hat_ I would be glad to do."

Hardcastle, well attuned to frequent shifts in McCormick moods, noted the pensive air after E.J. left. "What's the matter? All these are good things, even if they don't work out."

"I know." Mark's brow furrowed in thought, and his mouth moved as he prepared his thoughts. Hardcastle waited patiently. "You know, I envied E.J. for a long time. All that success, fame, money, women-I wanted that, and some of it seems shallow, but he has a chance now to do some real good from being famous. He can help people by teaching them how to race, and live in that world. People will listen to him because he's famous. He'll know he's accomplished something worthwhile." There was an undeniably wistful air in Mark's voice.

"Well," said Hardcastle mildly, "you had a hand in all this too." He waited for a moment until he had Mark's full attention, noting the puzzlement. "See, nothing happens in a vacuum. It's like one domino falling, and all the rest in the chain tumbling down after that. E.J. avoided a lot of trouble, and can redeem himself now, because he came forward early and confessed. I don't think he would have done that if it hadn't been for you. _You_ were the one who talked him into standing up, not running away, and doing the right thing. You were the first domino. Since he came forward, the good work he can do now, the lives he can change for the better, is because of you. It all traces back to you. Now, you may not get recognized for it, but you'll know, and I'll know, and E.J. will know too if he's honest with himself, which I think now he is."

Hardcastle watched Mark wrestle with the idea, but he was clearly still struggling. The expressions shifted from doubt to pleasure, and back again. "Just think about that, okay?"

E.J. was as good as his word. The rules didn't exactly address a situation like his. He presented his case as a way of maintaining and publicizing integrity in the sport, and he personally funded the organization's time in reviewing the matter and committed to returning and providing for re-apportioned prize money. After some consideration and some adjustments of the rules, the organizing body agreed to update the results and issued a press release: Mark McCormick was officially deemed the winner of the 1978 Outlaw Series.

The trophy was never replaced. Instead, the small package which came in the mail contained a new plaque to be affixed to the base. Mark ran his fingers over the lettering, as the inscription became the hammer to the chisel of Hardcastle's words, and together they penetrated Mark's psyche and began chipping the first tiny cracks into the foundation of his insecurity.

 _Mark McCormick, Outlaw Champion._ Champion. Not a loser. At long last, he was finally a winner.


End file.
